


The Haunting of Grace Le Domas

by juurensha



Category: Ready or Not (2019)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Death Fix, Deal with a Devil, Don't copy to another site, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Gen, Ghosts, Halloween, Healing, Implied Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon Fix-It, Recovery, Slow Burn, Temptation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23621380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juurensha/pseuds/juurensha
Summary: Grace tries to piece her life together after, and then Daniel appears as a ghost. Despite that—she thinks he’s becoming something like family.
Relationships: Alex Le Domas/Grace Le Domas, Daniel Le Domas & Alex Le Domas, Daniel Le Domas/Grace Le Domas
Comments: 26
Kudos: 208





	The Haunting of Grace Le Domas

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been working on this piece on and off since around December, but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless! I really enjoyed the film, and of course, I loved Daniel and Grace, so I wanted to write my own version of what I think their next steps could be.

The first few days after the wedding, Grace didn’t sleep.

Or it was probably more precise to say that outside of the times where the hospital staff knocked her out with meds, every time she managed to doze off, she would start to dream she was in that house again, running through the endless hallways, still trapped there in that terrible game with that awful, _awful_ song on a loop and footsteps behind her—

And she would jerk to consciousness and have to clutch herself and breath in and out, in and out, over and over again, and tell herself that it was over, it was done, she had _won._

Even if it didn’t really feel like winning.

Still—it seemed that Le Bail was at least sort of keeping up the end of his bargain since the police hadn’t bothered her.

Lawyers had however since now the Le Domas family fortune was apparently entirely hers now that she was the only surviving member of the family.

(It feels like some kind of sick, cosmic joke—maybe from Le Bail himself—that now that Alex is dead, she can’t divorce him, and she’s now forever legally regarded as his widow.)

So now she has more money than she knows what to do with, and once she gets discharged from the hospital after multiple surgeries on her hand and a ton of physical therapy appointments to look forward to, she also has all of the Le Domas properties.

“…they owned _all_ of these?” Grace asks, staring at the list of addresses and property descriptions in front of her. “When did they even have time to live in all of them?”

“The majority of them are vacation homes, and there’s dedicated staff for each of them to ensure that at any time you can go in and live in them,” the Le Domas family estate manager assures her.

“So—if I sold them—the staff would probably have to be let go?” Grace asks slowly.

“That would most likely be the case,” the manager says with a nod.

She leans back in her chair (she doesn’t know how to deal with this—she’s never even owned a house before, much less multiple properties with freaking _staff—_ but on the other hand, her apartment both has too many memories of Alex and doesn’t have any security, and she needs somewhere to live), “Then—I guess let’s keep them for now, and—which one has the best security? And the one that they lived the least in?”

That turns out to be a fancy modern mansion in Miami that has floor to ceiling windows, minimalist furniture, and a state of the art security system with a towering fence (it reminds her too much of the one she had to tear herself through so she immediately asks the groundskeeper if building a new one would be possible), locks and cameras everywhere (whose security fob she carries around her neck now), and a private security firm a button push away.

Both the house and Miami itself are very different from the Le Domas ancestral house, and it appears that the Le Domases had just bought it as an investment, not intending to actually live here until maybe during retirement, so there isn’t any sign of them in the house. None of the staff had ever met any of the family.

She tries to go out and explore the city—there’s amazing food, beaches, and art, and she has both the money and time to do whatever she wants now, and it—it kind of works during the day when the sun is shining and it seems impossible that Alex betrayed her and that now she’s a widow.

Nights—nights are hard.

Partying at clubs helps a little, but she was already getting too old for them, and she can’t stand any guy who tries to pick her up right now.

(Every time they draw close, she remembers Alex’s hands gripping her face and then moving down to her throat.

Why had she ever trusted him?)

The dreams change, but not for the better.

The Le Domas family makes its appearance now, Alex’s father sputtering in rage at her, Alex’s mother’s face drawn into a rictus of anger and trying to throttle her, Alex’s terrifying aunt chasing her through the hallways with that gleaming axe, Charity pointing a gun at her, Emily and Georgie laughing while chanting, “Kill, kill, kill!” with manic smiles on their faces, and Alex, always Alex, sometimes about to sacrifice her to the ritual and sometimes begging for her mercy.

(She’s not sure which one is worse.)

By the time Daniel shows up, it’s a nice change. He’s not doing anything horrible like gurgling on his own blood or saying anything in that cutting voice of his; he’s not even trying to hunt her. He actually seems to just be walking around her living room with a confused expression on his face.

“Hey, good to see you,” she calls out.

(It’s her dream, and it seems to be a rather pleasant one, and even if it’s spent just chatting with her alcoholic brother-in-law, that seems fine too.

After all, he was the only one in the end who had decided to help her.

Although maybe he would have decided otherwise if he had seen the way Alex had turned against her in the end.)

He stares at her, with a dumbfound expression on his face.

“…Grace?” he finally asks hesitantly, “Who do you think I am?”

She snorts, sitting down at the table and pouring herself a drink (wow, this dream is really realistic, she can even taste the sting of expensive whiskey going down her throat), “Daniel Le Domas, the one guy who managed to burn it all down, of course. It’s nice seeing you instead of any of your other family members right now.”

“…right,” Daniel says slowly, walking over and sitting across from her. “You’ve seen the others?”

“Oh yeah,” Grace nods, rubbing the cool glass over her forehead, “All the time—although you’re the first one I’ve managed to actually talk to. I was hoping you would show up for once—you’re definitely better company than all the rest. I may even get some rest tonight.”

“…Grace, do you think you’re dreaming?” Daniel asks carefully.

Grace frowns.

(Her dreams had never gotten so meta before.)

“Yeah?” she asks hesitantly.

“Grace—” Daniel breaks off, biting his lip and running his hands through his hair. “Damnit—even I don’t know what’s going on, how am I supposed to explain—”

Grace takes another sip of whiskey, and winces at the burn that goes down her throat. She focuses on the bottle, trying to get it to turn into some kind of gin cocktail or maybe a beer, but it stays the same pretentiously fancy glass bottle.

(Guess she wasn’t very good at controlling dreams.

Although usually, when she knew it was a dream, she woke up.

That wasn’t happening here, but maybe that was because this was a good dream for once…)

“It’s a nice change,” she says emphatically. “And—I never got a chance before—even if you’re not real though, I wanted to say—thank you for helping me, and—I’m so sorry you died.”

Daniel cracks a smile at her, “I only wish I had helped you sooner. And of course that I had thought to take Charity’s gun out of her bag—I’d say that I never thought she would use it, but that’s a lie, she’d do anything to be a Le Domas.”

Grace shakes her head, “Nope, she was begging Mr. Le Bail in the end to take away everything but to just let her live.”

“Did she really?” Daniel raises his eyebrows. “Well—that’s a surprise. I would have thought for sure you could only have pried her new status out of her cold dead hands, and even then you’d have a fight for it. So—I guess it turns out Mr. Le Bail was real all along?”

“He nodded at me. After—everything,” Grace answers, staring off into the distance.

(She’s still not sure what that tip of his head meant.

A show of respect?

For winning?

For surviving?

Then why bother to set up the game at all?)

“You saw him?” Daniel’s eyes widen. “Wow—guess you have that in common with Alex.”

She can’t help but curl her lip and take another sip of whiskey at the idea of having anything in common with him.

(Once she would have said they were soulmates.

How times have changed.)

“Speaking of him—is Alex around?” Daniel asks hesitantly, his head dipping a bit.

Grace’s stomach drops.

(That’s right, he still doesn’t know.

He still doesn’t know that ultimately, she chose to let his brother die.

She could lie—this is just a dream after all. She could tell him that Alex had just exploded with the rest of his family after the sun went up, with no chance for him at all, or even that they had both escaped but ultimately broken up and that Alex had gone off on his own—

Wouldn’t that be kinder?

But—she thinks he’d see through it. After all, he had seemed to only been able to endure all his family’s secrets and lies by drinking himself into an alcoholic daze.

She owes him the truth at least—even if this is all just a dream, and maybe she owes it to herself too.)

“…no. He—he’s not,” she says finally, biting at her thumbnail while thinking of how to best word her answer.

Daniel slumps a little, but he just in the end gives a tense nod, “I thought so. I’d hoped—that somehow the curse would bypass him since he wasn’t part of the hunt but—I guess in the end that was too much to wish for.”

“He was part of it in the end,” the words just tumble out of her mouth.

Daniel frowns, looking at her, “What? What do you mean? Didn’t he help get you away—”

“ _You_ were the only one who helped try get me away in the end. Alex—he saw you dead, and then he saw me bashing your mother’s skull in, and he knew he was never going to be able to make me stay with him after that night, so—he wrapped his hands around my neck and dragged me to the ritual table himself.”

“No,” Daniel breathes, shaking his head, “ _No,_ he was—he was the good one, he was the one who _got away_ —”

“No. In the end your mother was right; he returned to the fold and tried to stab me,” Grace stares blankly at the wall. “I managed to bite someone and twist away, and then the sun finally rose—and at first nothing happened, but then your crazy aunt tried to take a swing at me, and she exploded. And then so did all the others.”

(Perhaps she shouldn’t say all this, but—

She can’t help it.

She hasn’t been able to really talk about it to anyone—she didn’t want her therapist to think she was absolutely _insane_ and commit her—so the words just keep tumbling out.

Someone else should know, even if that person is just a figment of her imagination, even if he may hate her in the end.)

Daniel is trembling but he manages to ask, “So that’s—so that’s how he died too?”

Grace nods, “Alex was last—he said that I had changed him, made him a better man, and that this was his chance at a do-over, a second chance—and I threw my ring at him and told him I wanted a divorce.”

Daniel is quiet for so long that Grace wonders if she’s about to wake up.

(Not a great ending to her dream, but better than most of her recent nights had been.

But—it’s kind of weird, she’s still right here, and there’s none of the haziness that is usually part of her dreams.

There’s simply her and her ex-brother-in-law—or she supposes he’s still technically her brother-in-law—still facing each other in silence.)

“…I—I don’t blame you,” Daniel finally says, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “I—I _can’t_ blame you. Alex—I told him that if he really loved you, he should just tell you—and if you left, maybe that was for the best. At the very least, you’d still be alive right? And wasn’t that what mattered?”

(That was exactly what she wished that Alex had understood, the way she so desperately wishes that Alex had loved her.

Instead he had loved her like a possession, unwilling to let her walk free on her own, and would rather have destroyed her completely than let her escape.

She hates that part of her still loves him even now.)

“I wish he had listened to you,” she says quietly.

“If he had, we’d all be still alive,” Daniel quips with a twist of his mouth. “Instead here I am—a ghost stuck haunting—actually I’m not sure, am I stuck haunting you, or am I stuck haunting this place? Seems weird if I’m stuck haunting here, I’ve never even been here before. Where did you dig this place up from? Or did you buy it—I don’t see any family crests around here.”

“It was one of your guys’ holdings,” Grace says, bemused. “A vacation house you guys never got around to or something.”

Daniel glances through the window, “Palm trees—are we in Miami? My parents hated Miami—I think they would have turned to ash with that amount of sun. Emily prefers Europe, Alex cut ties with all of us, and Charity thought Miami was ‘so gauche.’ Makes sense we never came to this place.”

The more Daniel keeps talking, the more Grace realizes—

This isn’t the kind of thing that she would know (although none of it is surprising), and more importantly—

She feels awake.

This—doesn’t really feel like a dream anymore.

(But that doesn’t make any sense—ghosts aren’t real—

Just like curses with the devil aren’t real?)

“You’re—I’m not sleeping right now, am I?” Grace asks, pinching herself and feeling the pain but Daniel still stands there, a worried expression on his face. “You—are you real? Or am I hallucinating you—”

“You’re not crazy, Grace,” Daniel says, frowning and worrying at his lip. “I—I guess I’m a ghost or something now? Not sure, just appeared here.”

Grace laughs, setting the glass down with a clink and clutching her head, “I’ve finally cracked,” she whispers to herself.

“Grace, no,” Daniel says, moving closer, his hands hovering awkwardly around her, “I—how do I prove this—um, I can tell you something you definitely wouldn’t know and then you can check and prove it, right? If you check the Le Domas holdings, there’s going to be one shell company called Angels and Demons, and all it does is fund Alcoholics Anonymous meetings.”

“What?” Grace asks, looking up at him. “Why?”

Daniel shrugs, “We had way too much money, and I was in charge of accounts? And maybe I wanted to leave an option for myself—I don’t know. But check it; there’s no way you would know that.”

Grace dumbly drags her cellphone out, and the accounts manager is surprisingly not pissed about getting called up in the middle of the night to check a random holding company (perhaps they’re used to it), and confirms that Angels and Demons recently helped set up and fund another Alcoholics Anonymous chapter out in Minneapolis.

She hangs up the phone and just stares at Daniel, “Then—you’re a ghost?”

“I guess?” Daniel rubs the back of his neck. “I mean—I know I’m not alive, I can’t touch anything. Don’t know if anyone besides you can see me either.”

(Oh god, if this wasn’t a dream, did that mean that—)

“Is the rest of your family here too?” she demands, looking around the room while backing herself into a corner. “Are they hiding?”

“What? No, I’m pretty sure it’s only me,” Daniel replies.

“How would you know?” she asks suspiciously.

“Look—if the ghosts of my parents or Aunt Helene were around, they’d definitely be busy telling me what a fuckup I am,” Daniel says, running a hand through his hair. “Since I’m conspicuously the only ghost here—pretty sure they’re not.”

“…you’re not a fuckup, Daniel,” Grace says slowly (she doesn’t really know exactly how to handle this—ghosts aren’t really a normal part of her life, but given everything else that’s happened, why not ghosts—but she thinks it’s important to say this). “You—were the one good thing in that family.”

Daniel looks at her with an expression that is both somewhat confused and somewhat soft, “…maybe, but it’s not a high bar to clear there. I would like a drink though,” Daniel says, nodding at the whiskey bottle on the table.

Grace raises her eyebrows, “You can drink? Didn’t you say you couldn’t pick things up?”

“Yeah, but—maybe alcohol will be the exception—I have no idea, but I’m certainly going to give it the good old college try,” Daniel says adamantly.

Grace shrugs (why not?), pours some whiskey into a glass, and offers it up to Daniel. His hand passes straight through the glass, and she has to stifle a snort at the annoyed expression on his face.

“Oh yeah, kick a guy while he’s down, thanks Grace,” Daniel says half-heartedly, waving the glass away and sprawling across the sofa instead. “This really is purgatory.”

Grace also sits down across from him, “On the plus side, you’re not an alcoholic anymore.”

“Does it count if you can’t detox because you’re dead,” Daniel deadpans.

“I mean, do you even have cravings for alcohol right now?” Grace asks curiously.

“…not really, but it’s like—I feel like I should right now? Like a coping mechanism or something?” Daniel says then shrugs. “Being a ghost doesn’t come with an instruction manual—and you’re taking all this awfully well.”

“Well, you know, my in-laws already tried to sacrifice me in a Satanic ritual, so everything after that is kind of _meh_ ,” she says, copying his deadpan expression.

Daniel snorts, “So glad to be of service. Knew all that chanting and ritual goat sacrifice would come in handy one day.”

“Ohhhh, so that’s what all those goats were for.”

“You went there? Oh right—Georgie said he shot at you,” Daniel grimaces.

“That little shit,” Grace mutters, rubbing at her hand.

(She can still use it after intensive physical therapy, but it had been touch and go at times.

Even now, she can’t quite bring herself to be sorry about that kid’s death, and yes, she knows how messed up that is considering that she still misses Alex, and sometimes she even misses what Becky could have been to her.)

“He’s how I knew none of us were worth saving,” Daniel says darkly.

She doesn’t know what to say to that, so they just sit there in silence for a while.

“…do you only come out at night?” she finally asks.

Daniel shrugs, “This is the first time I’ve been awake since I died, so who knows. You should get some sleep Grace—we’ll see if I’m still here tomorrow morning.”

“And what are you going to do?” she asks curiously.

“Well, you know, I never did get to finish Westworld before I died, so if you could put that on for me, that’d be great thanks,” Daniel says with a small grin.

“Really?”

“Can’t do much else, can I?” Daniel points out before his voice gets softer. “Sleep, Grace. I’ll be fine—nothing can hurt me now.”

“…okay,” Grace says hesitantly (she’s not sure why she doesn’t want to leave—maybe it’s because she really doesn’t want to wake up and find the one person she can talk to about this suddenly gone). “I’ll—just get a blanket and sleep here then.”

“On the couch? You like Westworld that much?” Daniel jokes as Grace grabs a throw blanket that probably costs more than her old rent off of a chair.

“What’s not to love about robots getting revenge on us all,” Grace yawns, lying down on the couch and setting up the T.V. “Which episode were you on?”

“Start it at season 2, I don’t remember anything anymore,” Daniel says, absent-mindedly trying to tuck her blanket up, but his fingers just pass through it.

“Okay,” Grace says quietly, her eyes heavy with fatigue. “See you tomorrow.”

“Good night Grace,” Daniel says quietly.

(It’s not so bad, falling asleep on the couch with a ghostly Daniel sitting beside her.

Even if it’s a dream or hallucination, it’s a really nice one for once.)

\--

She muzzily wakes up, a bit of drool on her cheek and a pounding headache at her temples (okay, no more whiskey), and hears the drone of the T.V. beside her.

(Was it all a dream?)

“After Westworld finished, it automatically started playing Insecure. Not a bad show.”

Grace’s eyes widen, and she sits up to see Daniel still sitting beside her, sunlight streaming through him and making him seem translucent.

“You’re still here,” she breathes.

“Are you disappointed?” Daniel asks with a hint of a smirk that doesn’t quite hide the worry in his eyes.

“No! I’m—I’m glad you’re here. Really,” Grace says, reaching out for him to only put a hand through his shoulder.

“Well, that’s weird,” Daniel comments, looking down at her hand.

“Can you feel that?” she asks, poking a finger into him again.

“Nope. It’s a very bizarre feeling. It’s kind of like being drunk and high at the same time—but my head is completely clear,” Daniel replies.

“Right,” Grace says, pulling herself off of the couch, “I’m going to—make myself feel more human and then after that—you want to go for a walk and see if other people can see you?”

“Why not? Always wanted to scare some Floridians,” Daniel snarks.

It turns out, no one screams or stares or reacts, so it seems that she’s the only one who can see him.

“How do I know I’m not going crazy?” she murmurs to herself.

“The Alcoholics Anonymous meetings,” Daniel reminds her. “I can also probably come up with other stuff that you have no idea about. Like—when Emily turned 18, she had this _massive_ birthday party, and the night-club they were at caught on fire. Parents hushed it all up, but I’m sure if you ask our lawyers, they can probably pull up the settlements.”

Grace pulls out her phone to make a note to really go do that. They both sit on the bench for awhile, just looking at the sunlit streets.

“…what are you going to do now?” she finally asks him quietly.

Daniel lets out a breath, “I have no idea. Since people can’t see me, there goes my idea of making a fake haunted house so much spookier.”

Despite herself, she grins. “Oh my god—really?”

“Really,” Daniel nods. “I had it all planned out last night: make you look up supposedly haunted houses around the country, we fly there, and then I pop out of a few walls and generate some publicity for hard-working historical societies.”

“We could still do that,” Grace points out. “Like—maybe people can see you at night?”

“We can always try. Otherwise—I don’t know really. Don’t have any unfinished business I would say—kind of make as pathetic a ghost as I do a person in real life, huh?” he asks with a twist of his mouth.

“Don’t say that about yourself,” she says seriously, looking him in the eye. “You were—one of the only reasons I’m alive right now. We’ll figure it out.”

“Well, I’ve got nothing but time—although you might have some stuff you need to do? You were—a librarian, weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Grace nods. “But I’m pretty sure they fired me after I was gone for so long. They’d probably let me back given how much money I have now of course but…”

“Fuck them, right?” Daniel asks, with a quirk in his brow.

Grace snorts and covers her mouth, “Yeah, they weren’t the best. Still, I could probably find another librarian job if I wanted to…I kind of miss it, setting up events and stuff, suggesting books, teaching classes—but—I think—given all the money I have now—your guys’ money—I thought that maybe—I could set up something to help foster kids?”

(It’s a thought that’s been bouncing around her mind for a while, but she hasn’t given voice to it until now.

She’s not sure what she’ll do if he laughs or scoffs at her idea.)

“That sounds like a better idea than any of us ever came up with to do with our blood fortune,” Daniel says easily. “What’s stopping you?”

“I have no idea how trusts work,” Grace confesses. “Every time I try to talk to the accountants or lawyers—I don’t know if they’re trying to talk me in circles on purpose or not, but I end up even more confused when I come out of a meeting than when I did before.”

“Yeah,” Daniel muses, “I can imagine that.”

“I took a few accounting classes before, but really all this—is way beyond accounting 101,” Grace sighs.

Daniel hesitates for a moment before saying slowly, “Well—you know—technically I’m a CPA.”

Grace turns to just stare at him, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Daniel shrugs. “Managed it during one of my less drunken periods. I can take a look at things for you, if you can get them to send you some files, and you help me click through them.”

“…tell me what to ask them for, and I will,” Grace says.

\--

“You can understand all this?” Grace asks, scrolling through the balance sheets that the Le Domas accountants had sent over.

Daniel snorts, craning his neck over her shoulder, “Well, when I wasn’t participating in my family’s lovely dark rituals or trying to drink myself into a stupor to forget said rituals, I did manage to get a degree in economics and work in the company and have to look through some financials.”

“And apparently take the CPA exam at some point,” Grace comments.

“Was—trying something,” Daniel points at a cell for her to highlight while making clicking motions with his own fingers. “Really wish I could hold the laptop.”

“Maybe if you concentrate?” Grace suggests.

Daniel looks at her and then stares at the laptop for a bit before slowly moving his hand toward it.

It still goes through.

“…what if I could get one of your old laptops?” Grace suggests, seeing the disappointed expression on Daniel’s face. “Surely they didn’t all burn down in the mansion.”

“…worth a shot I guess, but my primary laptop was at Charity and mine’s penthouse up in New York.”

“Well, I could always buy a ticket there,” Grace says.

Daniel raises his eyebrows, “Wait—you’re still flying commercial? You know we have a private jet, right?”

“That is such a rich asshole thing to say,” Grace says, grabbing her phone and looking through the list of Le Domas family contacts she had added. “Who do I call to use it?”

“Well, guilty as charged, and just ask the accounts manager about it, they should know.”

It’s crazy that now Grace can just pick up her phone and apparently fire up a private jet, but within an hour, they’re flying off to New York, and very quickly they pick up Daniel’s laptop and then stay in a boutique hotel that Daniel suggests, called the Library Hotel.

“I used to hide out from Charity here,” Daniel says, glancing around the room with stacks of books.

Grace picks one up to see a Greek mythology book, and then looks up at him, “Wow, really? It’s amazing, but—I didn’t expect—that is—”

“That I could read?” Daniel asks with a wry grin appearing on his face.

“That you liked to,” Grace corrects.

(Alex hadn’t really.

Maybe that should have been a sign—what was a librarian doing marrying someone who didn’t even own more than five books?)

“It was a good escape from reality,” Daniel says, his fingers tracing through the spines of the books on the desk. “And when that wasn’t enough anymore, I graduated to harder stuff. But—this was still the last place Charity would look to try and find me. Usually she wouldn’t even manage to—too many bars in New York to check first.”

Grace just nods, sitting down on the couch, “I did that too. With books I mean—I could always imagine I was somewhere else, and that—”

(And that there was a family out there waiting for her.)

Grace falls silent, and after a bit, Daniel nods. “I get that. Books are great—but so are spreadsheets, so help me get this laptop open.”

He gestures, and his hand actually clacks against it.

He stares at his hand and then pokes at his laptop a few more times, his hand solidly touching it.

“I can’t believe this actually works,” he says, opening up the laptop himself and starting to type into it.

“You and your laptop: soulmates for life,” Grace suggests, sitting down next to him.

“Still better than Charity,” Daniel mutters.

“I never really understood why you married her,” Grace says, propping her head on her hand.

Daniel pauses while typing, “She—she wasn’t in a good place when she met me, and I was her way out of all that.”

“She was your charity case?” Grace quips.

Daniel snorts, “Oh, she would have tried to kill you if you said that to her face.”

“She already tried,” Grace points out dryly.

“True enough. So you already got to know her really well,” Daniel matches her dry tone and pulls up a bunch of spreadsheets. “Ah—it’s nice to be back.”

“The thing that makes you happy to be back is spreadsheets?” Grace asks, half-disbelievingly.

“It’s—just nice to see everything just balance out in the end,” Daniel says defensively, scrolling through the spreadsheet. “Nice and clear, nothing a mess. One thing I can actually complete successfully without throwing up.”

(She’s not sure if it’s sad that this one small thing in Daniel’s life gave him a tiny bit of joy, or if it’s good that at the very least, he had one accomplishment that had made him happy in his previous life.)

“Never would have pegged you for the secret nerd,” she jokes in the end.

Daniel rolls his eyes and looks at her, “What, the choice of hotel didn’t give it away, Ms. Former Librarian?”

“Touché,” she admits, leaning back. “Although—not sure about ‘former’—you think I can be a librarian and run this foundation or whatever at the same time?”

“If you want to sure,” Daniel says easily. “You have a ton of fuck-off money right now—makes life easier.”

“Fucking rich people,” she mutters.

“Fucking rich people,” Daniel agrees. “Which is why I’m busy trying to just give away your money now. Can’t let you turn into that.”

“Thanks,” she says genuinely. “I really—I think it’d be nice. To do something for foster kids—make it so they don’t—end up like me.”

Daniel looks up from his laptop to look her straight in the eye, “I think they’d be really lucky to turn out as awesome as you,” he says quietly.

(Daniel really is so much nicer than she gave him credit for in the past.

Of course it helps that he’s not drunkenly hitting on her now.

Although—she can’t help but wonder now if he had done so in an effort to make her uncomfortable enough to not want to marry Alex.

She wishes sometimes that it had worked.)

She coughs, covering her mouth with her hand, “That’s really—thanks, Daniel.”

“Any time, Grace,” he replies, going back to the spreadsheets. “Now before I give all your money away—I vote you get the priciest take-out you can.”

Grace blinks, “…you think they’ll do sushi delivery?”

Daniel gives her a flat look, “I think they’ll bring the chef to the room if you flash enough cash.”

The delivered sushi practically melts in her mouth, and she falls asleep while reading a book of Greek myths with Daniel’s typing in the background. When she wakes up the next day, Daniel has figured out how to print out the spreadsheets, although he can’t gather them up so they’re scattered around the floor like confetti.

“I think I’ve got it all figured out,” Daniel says, hovering about as she pours herself coffee (really, really good artisanal coffee—she might have to buy some to take back). “It should be right—if you show the spreadsheets to your accountants, they should be able to talk to the trust lawyers and set it all up. And if you still have questions—I can try to help you out and talk to you when no one’s there so you don’t look like a crazy person.”

Grace snorts, sipping some coffee while flipping through the printed out spreadsheets, “Too late—I’m the crazy girl who somehow made it alive out of the entire Le Domas family dying, remember?”

“And now you can be the crazy girl running a charity organization for foster kids,” Daniel replies, not missing a beat.

Grace chews her lip, smoothing out the pages, “…I’ll have to hire some people to help out—I’ve never run anything like that before.”

Daniel nods, “I think you’ll do good, you’ll see.”

And it turns out—Daniel is right. Finagling the lawyers and the accountants to set up the foundation is difficult, but Daniel is there to provide invisible commentary and support, so within a month she’s hiring people. She makes it a point to interview them herself, and she feels like she’s selected a pretty great bunch of people to run things.

She remembers all too well the way it was like in the system, so she first focuses her organization on reaching out to local foster care agencies to try and provide additional staff, money, and support to them, along with providing the foster kids in the area more access to therapy, better schools, and she specifically makes it a point to start a program to bake a cake for every foster kid’s birthday.

(She remembers what it was like, hoping against hope that someone would remember it was her birthday—and there being nothing at the end of the day.

She doesn’t want anyone to feel that lonely and lost like she did.)

It’s pretty hard work really—resulting in multiple late nights of wrangling with government agencies and red tape and trying to sort out good foster parents from bad ones from the limited amount of information her organization managed to gather.

Daniel is there the entire time though, and slowly makes progress towards touching material objects, actually managing to toss a blanket around her shoulders in the middle of the night, even if the first time he did that, he made her scream. 

“Jesus Christ Daniel! You scared me!” she shrieks, holding a hand to her chest and trying to calm down her pounding heart.

Daniel shrugs, “Sorry, but ghost, remember?”

“Well—at least it’s good you can touch things now,” she says, holding up the blanket and then scrubbing at the drool that had dried on her cheek then looking down at her desk. “Oh—did I fall asleep here again?”

“Yeah—I tried moving you, but I can’t seem to do that yet,” Daniel says apologetically, waving a hand that goes through Grace’s arm.

“It’s fine—I should get these done anyway,” Grace says, waking her laptop back up.

Daniel shakes his head, watching her, “You need more sleep—have you even gotten a full night’s rest this week?”

“I—I’ve gotten enough. If I sleep too much—I get nightmares anyway,” Grace mutters, tapping away.

Daniel is silent for awhile, before saying, “…that makes sense. I didn’t sleep much either before—or at least I drank until I passed out so I couldn’t dream anyway.”

(It seems to be the right hour for late night confessions, and besides, it’s not like Grace is really getting much work done anyway.)

“What demons were you trying to keep away?” Grace asks, pausing her work to prop her chin on her hand and look at him.

Daniel’s mouth twists into something between a smirk and a sneer, “Where to even start. There’s all the rituals, my fucked up family, Charity, but—myself primarily, I guess. In the last game—I was the one who let them know where Aunt Helene’s husband was.”

“…how old were you?” Grace whispers, setting her laptop aside.

“Nine,” Daniel says shortly, his eyes far away. “I hid Alex and then—he just popped up. He begged me to help him—but instead I yelled for them, and they came in those horrible masks—I’ve dreamed of the way he screamed and cried for years and years.”

“…you saved me though,” Grace offers.

Daniel lets out a sharp harsh laugh, scrubbing a hand through his hair, “…I wish that made up for it, but I really don’t think it does.”

“At least—you learned from that though,” Grace says haltingly. “Alex—Alex didn’t.”

Daniel’s eyes drop as his mouth tightens. “…Alex didn’t,” he agrees quietly.

“You know what’s messed up? I still miss him sometimes,” she whispers into the darkness.

Daniel sits down next to her, “That’s not messed up,” he says quietly. “You two were madly in love.”

“He tried to kill me,” she reminds him.

“Still,” Daniel is silent for a bit before saying slowly, “I miss him too.”

“You guys were brothers, that makes sense. Me and him were—”

(She doesn’t even know how to describe them now.

Technically she supposes they were husband and wife, but literally only for one bloodstained night before she threw that ring at him and he exploded in front of her.

She had thought they were partners, but she had been so, so, _so_ wrong.)

“You two planned to spend the rest of your lives together,” Daniel says carefully after she sits there in silence for a long time. “You _married_ him. Of course you miss him.”

Grace shakes her head, “No. I never really knew him—I miss who I thought he was.”

“…I really thought he was going to save you,” Daniel says helplessly.

“No—that was you in the end,” Grace says, looking at him.

(Good old Daniel.

Even when he’d been her drunk brother-in-law who sometimes hit on her, she had thought that there was a glimmer of good in him.

It had shown in how fond he was of his younger brother, and she had thought that anyone who had loved Alex that much couldn’t be a bad person in the end.

She was right about that, even if she was so wrong about everything else.)

“It’s weird being the one to have burned down the Le Domas dominion,” Daniel admits. “On the other hand—I am the family disappointment. Makes sense I would commit the ultimate failure in the end.”

“Don’t do that,” Grace says quietly.

Daniel frowns, “Don’t do what?”

“Act like what you did was some kind of joke—it wasn’t. It was brave, it was heroic, and—and it proved you were better than all the rest of your family,” she says fiercely. “They didn’t deserve you.”

Daniel gapes at her for a bit before he looks away, “…that’s certainly one point of view,” he says shakily.

“It’s the truth,” Grace insists.

“…you should get some sleep, Grace,” Daniel says finally. “If I see you having a nightmare—I’ll flick you with the blanket?”

“….fine,” Grace says, yawning and stretching up from her desk. “It’s nice that you can move things now.”

“Yeah, I think I’m getting stronger at that.”

And that does seem to be the case as months pass by. Daniel begins to be able to touch more and more things, and one day, he even appears nearly solid instead of translucent.

“…are you going to be able to completely materialize soon, you think?” she asks one day in fall as he manages to pick up a fork and knife, but still can’t eat anything.

“I have no idea. I didn’t get the ghost manual—and I wasn’t really involved in all the Satanic mysteries that my family was steeped in,” Daniel frowns. “It doesn’t seem right though—what, am I just going to come to life or something?”

“You already technically did,” Grace points out.

“But like—for real? Not this in between state? I thought—that doesn’t make any sense,” he says, shaking his head.

“Maybe it’s a second chance,” Grace suggests.

“I don’t deserve that,” Daniel says flatly.

(He says that, and she knows why he believes that, but she thinks—

She means what she has said before, that Daniel was the best of the entire wretched Le Domas family, and beyond that—all this time that he has been a ghost, he has been nothing but kind and supportive, helping her out however he can, telling her jokes to keep her spirits up, reminding her to go to her therapy appointments, talking to her in the deep, quiet hours of the night and early morning when her nightmares feel still smeared against her eyelids.

They’ve grown—close, and she finds herself thinking—

He’s everything that she had thought Alex was—and that’s such a dangerous thought.)

“Who deserves anything in life?” she demands. “Did you deserve to be born into such a family? Did I deserve to be fighting for my life on my wedding night? Just—don’t we deserve something _good_ now?”

“You do,” Daniel says immediately. “You definitely do, Grace. But me—I had my chance to get away like Alex did, but I just stayed there like a coward—”

“Alex never really got away, and you were the one who actually was brave enough to burn it all down in the end,” Grace says fiercely. “You deserve a second chance—I believe that.”

Daniel stares at her for a long time before looking away. “…thank you, Grace. Coming from you—it means a lot. Really—it does, even if I can’t quite believe it.”

“I wish I had met you before—before Alex or Charity,” Grace can’t help but say, flushing as soon as the words slip out of her mouth.

Daniel shakes his head, his eyes soft. “No—I wish you had never met any of us, then you’d never have gotten caught up in this mess.”

(And maybe that is the dream, because then she wouldn’t be haunted and nightmares and actual ghosts, but—

Before she had met Alex, she had been longing and dreaming of a family, of a place where she would belong, and she had been so _hopeful—_

And she misses that girl she was who had been bruised, but didn’t know the depths of darkness the world could really contain, but at the same time, this person she is now—

She likes her charity, she likes making a difference in the lives of kids so like herself, and—she can’t imagine how she would have managed all this without Daniel here at her side.

So—while she regrets trusting Alex, she can’t regret meeting Daniel.

He—is damaged, but so is she, and they—get each other, in a way she realizes Alex and her never did.

Now she cannot imagine herself without all this.

Without him.)

“But—if it had been you and me somehow instead—you would have told me, right? You would have let me go if I had wanted to,” Grace can’t help but say.

(Surely he knows.)

Daniel’s eyebrows go up, but then he inclines his head in agreement, “Of course. Who would want to trap another person in a family like mine?”

“Alex would have rather had me dead than gone and not with him,” Grace replies bitterly before looking up. “But—you still married Charity?”

Daniel lets out a short harsh laugh, “I told her everything, and god, was she _game_. She memorized blueprints of the house and had guns tucked in her bag that night.”

“You were willing to kill her though?”

Daniel shrugs, “Honestly? I thought that if Charity drew that card, she might have been able to hunt down each of us and put an end to it all and enjoy the Le Domas family fortune all on her own. She was a soulless bitch, but you had to hand it to her—woman had grit. Told me she’d rather die than give up the life she had now.”

Grace purses her lips. “I think—she put on a good show, but she was begging for her life in the end. She said she’d give it all back.”

"….huh,” Daniel lets out. “You told me that before, but I really didn’t see that coming.”

(Even knowing how loveless their marriage had ultimately turned out, Grace can’t help but wonder—

At one point, Daniel must have loved her, right? Or at least cared for her?

What had it been about Charity that had caught his eye?)

“Do you ever miss her?” she asks.

Daniel considers the question for a while, “…not really? It sounds terrible I know but—we were never really together in that ‘death do us part’ devoted sense. And after all, she did kill me.”

“So did Alex, and yet—” she shrugs.

Daniel chuckles, reaching out to try and brush her shoulder, although his hand still simply passes through her (is it weird that she really wishes it wouldn’t? That she wants him to touch her?).

“What a pair we make,” he says fondly.

“I’m glad you’re here too,” she says honestly. “I don’t really know—how I would deal with all of this without you.”

“I think you’d survive,” Daniel says with a soft smile on his face. “You’re good at that.”

“I had some help,” she reminds him, reaching out a hand.

Daniel laughs, shaking his head. “As much good as it did—but I have to say—this isn’t bad. Better than I deserve really, but—I guess we’ll see how far this gets?”

He attempts to grab her hand, and even though it passes through, she still thinks she feels a touch of warmth for a second.

(What would it mean for him to really come back all the way?

Well—besides the hellish amount of paperwork it would take to get him some kind of identity—

She would like that.

She would really, really like that.

Maybe an uncomfortable amount given that she’s his brother’s recently widowed bride.

But maybe—maybe they can eventually move past that as well?)

She holds onto that thought as the trees turn red and day by day, Daniel grows more solid. It’s nearly Halloween when he is pretty much fully corporeal, only getting ghostly around the strange liminal hours where it’s hard to say if it’s still night or already morning.

“I feel like we should talk about what we’re going to do if this is permanent,” she says, handing him a plate of fried eggs and waffles with bacon (Daniel has been enjoying the gastronomical side of becoming corporeal again immensely).

“Guess I’ll have to get a job,” Daniel says, immediately stuffing himself with the breakfast food for dinner. “Think I can get a position at your charity?”

“Considering you’re the one already usually looking through all the finances, I think we can figure something out,” she says dryly.

Daniel grins at her. “Thanks. I also feel like I should get a new name—might be hard to explain how Daniel Le Domas is back to life, but maybe a doppelganger can just slip through.”

Grace nods. “I had some thoughts about that—I’ll make a list, and you could look through it?”

“Sounds good,” Daniel leans over to get some more fruit out of a bowl. “Speaking of lists—decided what you’re going to be for Halloween yet?”

“Would a bloody bride be to on the nose?” she jokes.

(Really—

She can’t even pass by a bridal store without flinching these days.

It’s a shame—she had liked white lace before, but she had to throw out any of her dresses that had it with trembling hands.)

“Just a _tiny_ bit,” Daniel says with a wink. “You could always be a ghost I guess—just drape a sheet over.”

“Or a witch, that would just need a hat,” Grace muses, sitting back.

“Could work, but not sure you bought enough candy,” Daniel says dryly, gesturing at the boxes of chocolate bars she had bought from a wholesaler.

“You just wait, if everyone hears we’re passing out full-size chocolate bars, we’ll run out before you know it.”

“And if we don’t, and I stay corporeal, I guess I could help you demolish a few boxes,” Daniel quips.

Grace grins at him. “I’m looking forward to that,” she says honestly. “But we need to find you a costume too!”

“Ghost for sheer irony,” Daniel says, grabbing a sheet.

And—it’s really fun actually, passing out the full-size chocolate bars to the kids’ delighted squeals, with Daniel draped in a sheet and occasionally swooping in, running through the field that she has absolutely covered in inflatable Halloween decorations.

It’s also more tiring than she had expected, so at the end of the night, the two of them are sprawled on the couch, Grace kicking her feet into Daniel’s lap.

“I think we did good,” she says.

“Not sure the parents with kids on sugar-highs agree, but yeah, that was pretty fun,” Daniel replies, stretching a bit.

“And you feel more solid than ever,” Grace says, jabbing her foot into his leg.

Daniel squawks a bit and tries to throw her off halfheartedly, “Stop poking me! But—yeah I guess. Not sure why—maybe Halloween really is a magical time, and I’ll fade away after this.”

“Indeed you will, unless you want to make a deal.”

Both of them whirl around to see a figure standing in the hallway, holding a cigarette holder and regarding them with dark eyes and a slightly amused twist of her mouth.

(It—

It couldn’t be—

She was _dead._

She had bashed her head in herself—she had had her _brain matter_ spattered across her cheek—)

“Mom,” Daniel grinds out.

Becky lights a cigarette and blows some smoke out, “Something like that,” she says airily. “I have a proposition for you, Daniel.”

Daniel stands up, getting in front of Grace. “Well, that’s a first. You never trusted me with anything important before—but I guess all your other options are stuck in hell?” he asks with a treacherously casual tone.

Becky gives a small dry smile, “I wanted to speak to you about that. There are—ways to bring people back, depending on certain rites and sacrifices.”

(What the hell.

That can’t—

Surely she doesn’t have to go through this nightmare _again_ — _)_

“You want me to somehow get you out, mom? Fat chance,” Daniel snorts. “Even if all I had to do was squash a bug, I wouldn’t help you. Even if all I had to do was get up, I wouldn’t do it. We all deserve what we got.”

“Did we?” Becky sucks on her cigarette. “You’re here as a ghost despite everything you did.”

“And he tried to help me!” Grace interrupts angrily, standing up and shoving Daniel behind her instead.

(Even if she is shaking, even if she feels like her heart is about to beat out of her chest, even if she wants to _scream_ —

She fucking beat this woman before and like hell she’ll let her ruin everything they’ve so painstakingly built now.)

“That he did,” Becky says languidly, tapping her cigarette against one of the vases nearby. “At the last minute, and it got him killed, but I suppose that’s why he gets a chance now.”

“For what?” Daniel asks warily.

“It is Halloween, where the veil between life and death draws thin, and ghosts become more real,” Becky says gesturing towards him. “You’ll find though that after today, you’ll begin to fade away again and not be able to accomplish anything—unless you perform a sacrifice.”

“And let me guess—I can’t just sacrifice a goat or something, I’d have to sacrifice a person?” Daniel asks, his tone attempting to be light but still landing hard.

“One specific person,” Becky replies, nodding at Grace. “The one who has Le Bail’s favor now.”

(Her blood goes cold in her veins.

She—she thinks she trusts him—

But she had trusted Alex too, and look where that got her—)

“You think I’d exchange my life for hers?” Daniel asks disbelievingly, disgust dripping from his tone.

“Not yours. Alex’s,” Becky replies with a smirk.

(Her heart that had just started beating again plummets to somewhere along her stomach.

For himself, maybe not, but for Alex, his baby brother…

Why wouldn’t he trade that for someone he’s only known for around a year, half of that as a ghost?)

Daniel is silent, his face stricken as his mouth moves soundlessly.

“Wha—what?” he finally manages to get out.

Becky delicately shrugs. “It’s true that you could get your life back by killing her, but I also know you won’t do that. You’ve never thought much of yourself. But said sacrifice can still bring back someone else instead—a life for a life.”

Daniel breathes shakily. “Alex—Alex already had his chance—”

“You protected him all his life,” Becky interrupts, moving forward and speaking intensely. “From the very start, through every ritual, through even the previous game of Hide and Seek when you were so young yourself, you held his hand and protected him—”

“Yeah well maybe I shouldn’t have,” Daniel says harshly. “Then maybe he would have known exactly how fucked up everything was and wouldn’t have dragged Grace into this—”

“Oh Daniel, Alex always had the spine to do what was necessary for this family that you never had,” Becky snaps.

“Alex only wanted to _own_ me, and when I wanted to leave, that’s only when he returned to your fucked up fold,” Grace spits out, putting a hand on Daniel’s arm. “Daniel was the only one of you who actually wanted to help me.”

“But you helped her for Alex, didn’t you Daniel?” Becky asks, raising an eyebrow. “Or what do you think—now that your baby brother is dead, you can enjoy his wife all you like—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Daniel says savagely, glaring at his mother. “I—I love Alex. I always will. And you’re not wrong that originally I helped Grace because I wanted Alex to have a happy ending with her, but—but not at the cost of _her_ life. That’s all we’ve been doing all these years—trampling over other people’s lives just so we can be a little richer and live a little longer. We all deserved to die, and—and that includes Alex in the end. And that includes me too—I’m glad I got a chance to come back as a ghost to help her one last time, but I deserved the end I got as well.”

Daniel is out of breath at the end of that speech, and Grace is digging her nails into his arm, watching Becky.

(She is so, _so_ relieved that her trust in him hadn’t been misplaced—but what will his mother try now?)

Becky exhales another cloud of smoke, so much that it temporarily blocks their view of her (what the fuck) and then—her silhouette _shifts,_ looking like a man wearing a hat, who simply bows.

“You’ve passed your last temptation, Daniel Le Domas,” a low voice rings out. “Enjoy the rest of your life.”

And then the smoke dissipates, and no one is there, and the clock clangs an hour past midnight, and Daniel’s arm is still solid beneath her hand.

“Was that—was that Mr. Le Bail?” Daniel asks hoarsely, still staring at the spot on the ground.

“I—I don’t know, maybe?” Grace says, not letting go of his arm and tugging him forward a bit so that she can step on where that person was standing. “I guess—I guess you also impressed him?”

Daniel looks at his hand and then looks at Grace, “I guess we’ll see if I still say solid—but if you want me to leave, I will.”

“What?” Grace stares at him. “Why would I want you to leave?”

“My great temptation was killing you in exchange for my brother’s life—that doesn’t put you off a bit? Besides you know, all the other fucked up baggage,” Daniel asks, his tone seemingly light, but she can see the tightness of his jaw.

Grace reaches out to touch the side of his face, caressing his jaws, “You told her to fuck off—and it’s not like your baggage isn’t my baggage at this point.”

Daniel takes in a short breath, his eyes flickering from her face to her hand and back again, “Grace—are you—what are you doing?”

“Asking you to stay,” Grace says, leaning in so that their faces draw closer (this is it). “I—I’m _never_ going to want to marry again, Daniel, but you—I want you to stay. I want you to be my family, and I want—I want whatever you can give me.”

Daniel’s hand slowly draws up to take the back of her own on his cheek, his eyes dark and shining. “You—you really mean that? You’re not—I’m not—I’m not even close to what you thought Alex was—”

“Who I thought Alex was—was a lie. With you—I _know_ you Daniel, and I’m choosing _you_.”

He surges forward, capturing her mouth with his own, and she moans (at last, at last, _at last_ ), and they tumble onto the couch, and it is some time before they extricate themselves, disheveled and messy and laughing like teenagers while still holding hands.

“I need a shower,” Grace says, picking up her clothes that have gotten tossed around the floor while trying to not smile like a loon.

Daniel noses the back of her neck. “Can I join you?”

Grace laughs and swats his shoulder, holding her shirt to her chest. “Did being a ghost give you more stamina or something?”

“I have a lot of time to make up for,” Daniel says sardonically before his face grows more serious. “And—I think I need to say this, even though it’s kind of lame since we technically just got together but—I think I’m in love with you, Grace.”

(Her heart swells, and even if this brings up memories of her and Alex—

Daniel isn’t Alex, and she loves him for it.)

“It’s not lame at all, and I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you too,” Grace says, reaching out and bringing his head down so she can kiss his forehead.

Daniel beams at her, happier than she has ever seen him. “I—wow. Well—we’re surprisingly sappy, huh? For two people that basically met the devil twice.”

Grace beams back at him, “I think it’s what makes us family.”

“Very true,” he says, stretching a bit. “Although—we don’t have to be Le Domases, right? Such a pretentious name.”

“I was Grace Green before,” Grace offers.

(She—had actually put that on the list of last names she was going to give him.

She thinks—she hopes he sees the gesture for what it is.) 

“Daniel Green,” he tries it out before letting out a small laugh, “I sound like a YA author or something; I love it.”

She chuckles with him, swinging their hands together. “Well then Daniel Green—would you like to join me in the shower?”

“I believe I will Grace, I believe I will,” he says, kissing her again.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like the build up of Daniel and Grace's relationship? Did you like Becky/Mr. Le Bail's appearance? How was the ending? Please leave comments/kudos! 
> 
> So the Library Hotel in New York is real and cool. I wasn't sure what Grace's maiden name or previous job was, so I just went with Green (mainly just for the alliteration and the YA author joke) and librarian (because librarians are awesome). I have no real idea how trusts work, so I apologize for any inconsistencies there.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Learning to Live Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24289180) by [saltysarah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltysarah/pseuds/saltysarah)




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